The Marisol Chonicles
by con-notations
Summary: If you wanted to read a fic full of feminism, well-written characters, and overly-dramatic teenagers, then you've come to the right place! Centered around Marisol, an antisocial fifteen year old girl with her head in the clouds, but from the point of view of everyone else. Camp Jupiter. Rated T for language and adult themes.
1. Part I: Gabriel Ackerman

**The Marisol Chronicles: Gabriel Ackerman**

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**Posted August 10th**

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**********The Hatezone: Part I**

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**********Quick note: Marisol may seem like a Mary Sue at first, but that's because it's from the POV of Gabriel, who practically idolizes her. (Which is one of his flaws.) It's supposed to be like that. Just keep reading, she'll have tons of flaws, I promise.**

Marisol belted out the last lyrics of the song, something about her being a homewrecker? Earbuds were tucked under her blonde hair, and her magical iPod lay on the bench next to the deadly assortment of Imperial Gold swords. The back of her iPod, instead of having an apple on it, had a lyre, the symbol of her father, Apollo. She was an odd sight, a pink pleated skirt over white pantyhose, paired with combat boots and a chestplate of the same metal as the swords she was polishing.

"You're a home-wrecker, huh?" I asked her with a sheepish smile.

"What?" She said loudly. Impatiently, she pulled her headphones out. Music played tinnily from the earbuds in her hands. "Can you say that again?" She said in a normal voice.

"You're a home-wrecker?" I repeated, feeling stupid. I didn't think she would ever like me, with my short stature and ugly face. Girls were so lucky. If they were ugly, they could just wear makeup. Boys didn't have that option.

"Oh," she said. "No." Then she was putting her earbuds back in. Well, she might never like me, but at least I could try to get her to.

"You're a good singer." I said quickly, before she could end our conversation.

"Thanks. It's kind of a given, being an Apollo kid." She said.

"I don't know, Octavian's an Apollo kid, but he doesn't really seem like the type to be a good singer." I joked, wincing internally at how awkward I sounded.

She pursed her lips like she was trying not to smile. Man, her lips were perfect. The cupid's bow of her upper lip with the pale pink lipstick she wore was just perfect. Everything about her was perfect.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. I've heard him in the shower. He has an excellent range. Hits the high notes and everything." She nodded sarcastically.

I laughed shakily, and then asked, "what about _your _range?"

"I can sing The Queen of Night's Aria by Mozart." She said, and took another sword. In the faint glow of the armory torches, her blonde hair glittered.

"What's—what's that?" I stuttered, cursing myself. I hoped she hadn't noticed.

Her eyes brightened for a moment, and she set the sword beside her, straightening her back. Then she started singing this opera song, a song that started low enough, but then had such high notes that her voice sounded like a violin. So high that the lyrics, which I suspected were German, became unintelligible. Near the end, she belted out this high note that seemed to resonate through my head. The song over, she picked up the sword and began polishing it, slightly out of breath. Was it my imagination, or was she blushing?

"Whoa."

She smiled. "Yeah."

"That's high."

She nodded. "It's Gabriel, right? Who was your godly parent again? Or are you a legacy." She said the last question like a statement.

"I'm a legacy. Of Mercury." I said, kind of hurt that she hadn't remembered who I was, at least. No, we weren't in the same cohort, but we'd seen each other around before. The least she could do was remember me.

"Mm." She said. "That's cool." And she picked up her earbuds again, put them in her ears, and pressed play on her magical iPod. She studiously continued polishing the sword. In a falsetto voice, she sang another song, which was just the word sex over and over again.

I shook my head and left the armory, not even remembering to get what I was pretending to actually be in there for.

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**A/N:**

**I know this is kind of short, but I'm planning on updating every day. Plus, it's just one scene, so it shouldn't be that long anyways. Basically the idea that I have for this is that it centers around Marisol, who is kind of wrapped up in her own world. It's about her struggles, and it's all from the point of view of the characters around her. You're going to find out more about her as the series progresses. Review please! Or don't. It's your life, man. **

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**Disclaimer:**

**I don't own or make money off this fanfic. The Percy Jackson universe and all characters that aren't Marisol or Gabriel belong to Rick Riordan. The songs referenced in this fic are _Homewrecker _and _Sex, Yeah_, and they belong to Marina and the Diamonds and Neon Gold Records. The song _The Queen of Night's Aria_ belongs to Mozart, but he's dead so I'm not really sure if it matters. It's not like he's going to come back to life just to sue me.**


	2. Part II: Gabriel Ackerman

**The Marisol Chronicles: Gabriel Ackerman**

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**Posted August 11th**

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**The Hatezone: Part II**

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"Marisol." She was listening to her music again. Impatiently, I pulled her earbuds out of her ears. I was going to tell her, and fast, before I lost my confidence. We had just finished marching in full battle armor, and people were putting things away. She stood outside of the armory, checking to make sure that no one took anything. It was surprising how necessary the job was.

She glanced at me, annoyance knitting her eyebrows. "What?"

"I... I want to tell you something." I put my hands in my pockets. No going back now.

"Yeah?" She was starting to look a little bewildered.

"I like you." There. I said it. I studied her expression, and to my dismay, it wasn't happy, it was angry.

"Okay, that's nice. I don't like you. At least not like that." She moved to put her earbuds back in, and my heart wrenched. I stuck out a hand to stop her.

"Wait, Marisol," She slapped my hands away and continued to try to put her earbuds in. "Gods, do you _ever _stop listening to that music? Just listen to me!" Why was she being such a bitch? All I did was tell her I liked her. She ought to be happy that someone did. I know I would have been.

"Fine, what? What do you want from me?" She was starting to look even angrier.

"Why don't you like me?" A lump was forming in my throat. I knew it. No girl would ever like me, especially not some pretty girl like Marisol.

"I don't know, I just don't." Her words were cold with impatience and frustration. Was it _that _hard to talk to one person for more than two seconds?

"I've spent so long trying to get you to like me, and all you can say is 'you just don't?' You at least owe me an explanation."

An expression of complete outrage spread across her features, and I realized I'd said the wrong thing. "I _owe _you? I don't owe you anything! It's not _my _fault that you spent a bunch of your time trying to get me to like you! I have a life of my own! Outside of yours! Shocking, I know." Whoa, I didn't know were that came from. A life of her own? I knew she had a life of her own. But it's not like she couldn't spend some time with me! I wasn't _that _bad.

"Doing what, listening to music? Ignoring everyone? Why can't you just spend some time with me, you'd be doing something a little more important than listening to your _stupid_ music!" I was aware that I was now looking angry too. "And singing opera!" I added. What was with that, anyways? What kind of fifteen year old girl sings opera? I was starting to wonder why I'd liked her in the first place.

She started towards me, and got into my face. "Fuck you, I do what I _fucking want_, and I don't _fucking want_ to be with you! I don't even know you!"

"I've been trying to get to know you, but all you do is ignore me!"

"Then why do you even have the slightest idea that I like you if all I do is ignore you?!"

I looked around, lost. I didn't have any more arguments. This was not going well. People were all filing out of the armory. I saw the glint of a gauntlet. Someone was stealing something.

"Hey!" I pushed past people and snatched the gauntlet out of the guy's hands. I marched back to Marisol, and pushed it into her arms, rougher than I intended. "There. I did something for you. Now, will you do something for me? Give me a chance? I'll take you on a date, in New Rome. Please?"

She looked up into my face. She was a whole head shorter than me. She glared at me. "Gabriel?"

I waited.

"I will _never_, not ever, go on a date with you. Now quit distracting me. I need to watch these people." She turned back towards the armory entrance, and I wasn't sure whether I was going to punch her, or cry at her. Instead, I did as she asked, and left.

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**A/N:**

**Drama drama! He really shouldn't have insulted her music. So, thoughts? Who's in the wrong here, Marisol or Gabriel? Do you think either of them are going to try to get revenge?**

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**Disclaimer:**

******I don't own or make money off this fanfic. The Percy Jackson universe and all characters that aren't Marisol or Gabriel belong to Rick Riordan and Disney Hyperion.  
**


	3. Part III: Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano

**The Marisol Chronicles: Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano**

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**Posted August 12th**

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**The Hatezone: Part III**

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"I think I'm going to do it." I said, staring down at Marisol, who wasn't paying attention. "Marisol!"

"Sorry." She looked up at me from her bunk. "Yes, Reyna?"

"I'm going to apply. To be Praetor." I looked in her face, trying to analyze her reaction. She broke into a huge smile.

"That's great! You'll do great. You're a good centurion already. You'll be a better Praetor."

I glared at her, putting my hands on my hips. "Is that what you _really_ think?"

"Yes!" She punctuated this by plopping both her arms on the bed. I couldn't tell if she was lying to spare my feelings, or if I was being paranoid. Probably the former. Marisol was my friend, had been since she'd joined the Third cohort two years ago. I liked her because she was withdrawn, lost in her own world, so I didn't have to mask my emotions. As much. She was still very kind, and she didn't like to cause a lot of conflict. Conflict, like telling me to get the ridiculous notion of potential Praetorship out of my head.

"Marisol. Tell the truth."

She let out a frustrated breath. "Reyna. I am telling the truth. I think you'd be a good Praetor. Someone worthy will finally replace _Will_." She wrinkled her nose.

"What's wrong with Will?" I asked. Of course, I knew what was wrong with Will. I hoped I didn't turn out like him. No, I wouldn't turn out like him. I wouldn't allow myself to.

"What's wrong with Will?" She looked at me sardonically. "He's a _culus_!"

"_Marisol,_" I admonished. She'd called the Praetor an asshole! She wasn't supposed to say things like that about her superiors.

"What?! It's true! He sewed me into a sack with angry weasels and threw me into the Little Tiber because he thought I 'led him on.' He was just pissed 'cause I didn't like him back. And what did I get for respecting my own boundaries and not fucking him? Water in my lungs and ten bazillion weasel scratches. He's a _culus_, Reyna, and I'm not going to pretend like he's not. Boys just think—they just think they _own_ me, that they're entitled to my love because I'm pretty and nice to people!" She was breathing hard now, and I sat on the bunk next to her, patting her back.

"All right. All right." She probably should have been allowed to call him a _culus_. He had been pretty terrible to her. He'd let his personal problems become intertwined with his Praetorship, and I wouldn't allow that to happen to myself.

"I'm not gonna change who I am just so boys stop liking me! I won't! Don't they realize that I have a life of my own to be getting on with?" When she put her forehead in her hands, I realized that she probably wasn't just remembering Will. Something had happened.

"Marisol? Are you alright?" I faced her.

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't care about them, I don't care about them," she kept saying into her hands. I looked around. There were people around us, the entire second cohort. It was the evening, about half an hour before dinner, and kids were milling about. I couldn't let Marisol look weak in front of them, much less cry. With Romans, weakness was not an option. But neither was penting up your feelings.

"Come on, Marisol." I tried to help her up and take her to the bathroom or outside or _something_. Anywhere but here, where people could see. But she shrugged me off.

"No, it's fine. I'll be fine. Just, Reyna?"

"Yes?"

"You _have _to be the Praetor. You _have _to." She looked into my face, and I saw that her brown eyes were wet and full of hurt and anger. I nodded.

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**A/N:**

**Reyna might seem a little bit OOC, that's because she's about fifteen in this fic, and she hasn't taken the responsibility of being the Praetor yet. I didn't really know where to put her, I don't think she would have been in the Fifth because she comes off as being fairly badass, but I don't think she would have been in the First, since she probably didn't have any letters of recommendation. Someone asked me where I got the idea for this; I was listening to Marina and the Diamonds one day, and I just kind of thought about Marina's style, like her outfits and stuff, and I wanted to write about how looking cute and being nice shouldn't mean that you owe your love to anyone, but people seem to think it does. That's the main theme of the Hatezone. (Which is pretty stupid sounding, but Enemyzone is even more stupid, so...) After I finish the Hatezone, I'll come up with something else to write about that deals with Marisol. **

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**Disclaimer:**

**I don't own or make money off this fanfic. The Percy Jackson universe and all characters that aren't Marisol or Gabriel or Will belong to Rick Riordan and Disney Hyperion.**


	4. Part IV: Apollo

**The Marisol Chronicles: Apollo**

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**Posted August 13th**

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**The Hatezone: Part IV**

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I appeared in my temple on Temple Hill at Camp Jupiter. My daughter, Marisol, was sitting at the dusty old grand piano. My temple wasn't big, much to my dismay, although the Romans never much cared for me, even in ancient times. It was about the size of half a basketball court. There was an altar in one corner, a collection of instruments in another, and an assortment of brittle bows hanging on the wall near the door. A skylight dominated the ceiling, although it wasn't doing much to illuminate the room, since it was nighttime. The only light came from torches on the walls.

Marisol was playing Simple Gifts on the piano, but she fumbled and slammed her hands down on the keys, producing an ugly sound. She put her elbows on the keys, and rested her head in her hands. She was crying.

Jupiter only allowed us to see our children once every six months or so. Compared to our lifespan, this was actually quite often, but compared to our children's lifespan, it was barely anything. I'd been watching my daughter, and I could see that she was having trouble. I wanted to help her, offer her some fatherly guidance.

Quietly, I moved towards her, and sat down on the piano bench. She looked up. Her big, brown eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were wet.

"Father?" She sniffed. She wiped her eyes immediately, sat up straight, and turned towards me. It was the Roman way, to not allow oneself to appear weak, especially in front of a god, or someone they were trying to impress. She was blushing, and I could tell she was ashamed.

"My daughter. What is the matter?"

She cleared her throat, blinked rapidly. "Nothing. I'm fine." Her eyes were downcast.

"Marisol. Do not lie to me." I said. Perhaps my words were harsh, but I didn't have a lot of time to spend with her. I wanted to get to the bottom of this.

She slumped. "Boys like me." She looked miserable. I paused, waiting for her to elaborate.

When she didn't, I asked: "What's wrong with that?" I would have thought that she was upset that the boys were advancing on her, not that they had feelings for her. You couldn't blame someone for their feelings.

"They only like me because I'm pretty, Father, and they treat me like I'm some sort of prize they win if they bother me enough!" Her chin dimpled, and her voice cracked. She reminded me of Cassandra. She'd said that I tried to buy her love. But she'd led me on, just to get the power of prophecy. Cassandra had been a manipulative snake, she'd tried to use me. Well, that backfired on her.

"Who treats you like that?"

"First it was Will Johannson, then it was—"

"The Praetor, Will Johannson?"

"Yes, father."

"But he's three years older than you!" That was disgusting, an older boy trying to prey on _my daughter_ like that! And one in a position of power over her. She was smart not to become romantically involved with him.

"I know." She grimaced.

"Who else?" I demanded. I needed to know who to sunburn tomorrow.

"There was Joshua Hanlon, Brett Jacobs, Jason Grace, even, and just recently, Gabriel Ackerman." Her lower lip trembled. "But I don't care about them."

"You don't?" I would think that she'd want vengeance. I certainly would, if I were in her place. Too many times, women have treated me like a prize, like an achievement. "Oh, look at me, I'm so beautiful I can get _Apollo_ to fall in love with me!" They'd say to their friends.

"No. I'm mad that they like _me_. I mean, they like me_, _but they don't like _me_."

I didn't understand what she meant. They liked her, but they didn't like her? I reached into her mind, read her thoughts. She wanted them to look at her as a person, not just a pretty girl. She wanted them to like her for her intellect, her thoughts, her emotions, not just her body or the things she says.

"I see."

She nodded. "They think they can buy my love, like I'm some toy in a department store."

"They're terrible people." I said, absently.

She flared up. "What do you mean, they're terrible people? You did the exact same thing!"

"I—_excuse me_?" Was my daughter really talking to me this way?

She stuck her chin out. "With Cassandra! She didn't like you, and you tried to buy her love, Father, then got upset when she still didn't like you!" She scooted away from me, and nearly fell off the bench. She was angry with _me_, after I'd gone out of my way to help her! She ought to treat her father with more respect.

"You watch your tone, young woman! I'm only allowed to see my children bi-annually, and you should be honored that I'm spending my one visit with you!"

She stood up, crossed her arms, and glared at me. "You're just like them. My own father, just like them." Betrayal was etched in her face. "Well, I'm glad you took the time, Father, and it was nice seeing you again, but if seeing me is such a pain, then don't worry about it." She marched out of the temple and slammed the door so hard a bow fell to the ground, the string snapping.

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**A/N:**

**Notice how Apollo wasn't even concerned with what she was saying, but how she was saying it. That's going to be important. So, what do you think? Was it good? Did I write Apollo well? Is this entertaining to read? Should I make the chapters longer and just update less often? C'mon guys, give me something. **

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**Disclaimer:**

**You thought that since the last chapter I've bought the rights to the Percy Jackson series? Well, you thought wrong. I still don't own PJO or any of the characters besides Marisol, Gabriel, Will, Joshua Hanlon, and Brett Jacobs. They, along with the Percy Jackson universe, belong to Riordan and Disney Hyperion. **


	5. Part V: Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano

**The Marisol Chronicles: Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano**

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**Posted August 14th**

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**The Hatezone: Part V**

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I munched on a piece of toast, groggily regarding my cohort. There were about thirty kids of varying ages. The youngest was Timothy, at age ten, a black-haired son of Vulcan. He lay on his stomach, chatting with a girl from the Second. I think her name was Serena. The oldest was the other centurion, David. He was five years older than me, aged twenty. With nine lines branded onto his forearm, he was almost finished with his service to the Twelfth Legion.

I glanced at Marisol, sitting Roman-style at the end of the bench. She had huge bags under her eyes, and was shoveling oatmeal into her mouth tiredly. I got up to go sit with her, narrowly avoiding a flying plate of eggs benedict. Aurai, wind spirits, served food in the mess hall, which meant that if you weren't careful, you could get smacked in the head by flying breakfast.

I settled onto the couch next to her. "Hello, Marisol."

"Hi." She said, staring into her oatmeal. She sighed.

"Is everything alright?"

"My iPod isn't working," she glared at her spoon. Her iPod was a gift from her father, a magic device with thousands of songs. "It never attracts monsters and it doesn't use electricity," she'd said, once she'd figured out how it worked, "but it needs to charge in the sun after a few hours of using it."

"Is it broken?" I asked, finishing off my toast with a gigantic bite.

"No," she paused, and cleaned out her bowl. "I fought with my father last night."

"_What_?" A god had come and visited her? In the middle of the night? But she was sleeping. Or, she had sneaked out. But that would mean that she'd broken the rules. As her centurion, that would mean that I'd have to punish her. Oh, gods. I didn't want to do that. She was already dealing with something big, although I didn't know what, and we were friends. I didn't want to have to do that to her.

She put her head in her hands, took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, no. You have to talk about it." I stood up, grabbed her arm, and pulled her up after me. I marched her out of the mess hall, and pulled her around to the back, so no one would see us. I stood her so her back was to the brick wall. She was so short. I myself was rather tall, about 5'7", but she was half a foot shorter.

"Tell me, why did you think it would be okay to sneak out in the middle of the night?" I said angrily.

It had the desired effect. Her big brown eyes widened, her mouth opened, as if she'd just realized that I was her Centurion before I was her friend, and she had broken the rules, and told me about it. "Oh, my gods, Reyna, I'm so sorry, I-"

"-Save it. You know, Marisol, I expected better of you." Good gods, I sounded like Hylla.

Her chin dimpled, and her eyes filled with tears. Jupiter help me, if she cried, I wouldn't be able to go through with this.

"Reyna, I won't be able to handle it if you're mad at me too." Her voice sounded like broken glass.

I considered going with the classic _I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed_, but I decided that I already sounded enough like someone's mother. "Why?"

"I..." She wasn't forthcoming with words. Her lower lip was trembling, and she clamped her teeth over it.

"As your Centurion, I order you to tell me what the hell is going on." I crossed my arms in front of me and assumed a commanding expression.

She took another deep breath, and pushed hair out of her face. "You know Gabriel. Legacy of Mercury. Second cohort. Well, he likes me. Or, he _liked_ me. Yesterday, he told me, and I turned him down, and we argued. Then, in the middle of the night last night, I was feeling bad, and I couldn't sleep, so I snuck out to go to my father's temple and play some music. He visited me, and I told him about what happened, you know, because he's my dad and he's supposed to be able to help me with things like that, right?" Well, dads weren't known for help in the romance department, but I decided not to correct her. "And I kind of yelled at him, because he did the same thing that I was upset about to Cassandra all those years ago, and he yelled at me, and I left, then I snuck back into the barracks, and I went to bed. This morning, I woke up, and my iPod, the one he gave me, wouldn't turn on."

"I think that's the most you've ever said all at once." I remarked. She huffed, blinked hard, and looked away from me, out at the Fifth cohort barracks. I glanced over, trying to see what she was looking at, but there was nothing there. So, since she wasn't staring at something, that meant that she just didn't want to look at me. It was times like this that I hated being in a position of authority.

"Well, you ordered me to." She replied, voice shaking. After a moment, in which I was trying to figure out what to say next, she said: "I really fucked up things with him. My dad, I mean."

"You probably shouldn't have yelled at him," I allowed. "He is a god, after all. He's not used to that sort of treatment."

She nodded. "How am I going to fix things? I can't _survive_ for that long without music." _She's so dramatic, _I thought. "And..." She trailed off.

"And what?"

"And I don't want to never talk to him again." She finished. Perhaps it wasn't the thing she was going to say at first, but I didn't pester her. Not when she was so close to crying.

"Well, why don't you just apologize?" I asked.

"Reyna." She said, "_he's_ the wrong one, not me."

"Okay. You don't have to deal with it now. Just give it a few days, and then apologize."

"But I don't _want to_! He's not any better than them! Will included. He's worse than Will. At least the scratches healed and I got over the pnuemonia. Cassandra had to deal with her curse for the rest of her life."

Breakfast was going to be over soon. I needed to find another time to talk to her about this. "I know. It's terrible. But you still snuck out."

She looked me in the face now, betrayal and a tiny hint of fear in her eyes.

"You're on sentry duty. I'm scheduling you for the day after tomorrow." I said. I was being lenient, partly because she was dealing with so much already, and partly, although I didn't like to think it, because she was my friend. I really wasn't any better than Will.

Her face softened. "Alright. Can I go now?" I nodded, and she pushed past me, walking away.

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**A/N:**

**So there's a downside to being friends with Reyna. I kind of imagine her to be a sort of duty-bound, strict but fair, puts-her-job-first kind of girl. What do you think? DId I do a good job of capturing Reyna, or is there something I missed?**

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**Disclaimer:**

**You know what, I'm going to be a rebel and I'm _not _going to write the disclaimer this time. ~Can't be tamed~**


	6. Part VI: Gabriel Ackerman

**The Marisol Chronicles: Gabriel Ackerman**

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**Posted August 18th**

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**The Hatezone: Part VI**

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The Second Cohort was building the fort for the war games that would take place that evening. I was helping clear out the old obstacles from last night's game of deathball. The First Cohort was on the other side of the Field of Mars, setting up the fence around the fort, and the Second was scattered around the Field, so I was alone, no one in sight for a hundred feet. It was hot outside, the sun was beating down on my back oppressively.

Marisol was pissing me off. She was such a bitch! I kept trying to talk to her, get to know her, and she'd just ignored me, then got mad when I didn't know her well enough to like her. And how was it _my _fault that I liked her? People couldn't control their feelings. It was so _unfair_.

_Since when has life been _fair? I asked myself as I lifted up a charred board. A rattlesnake gazed up at me. Since Mercury's sacred animal was the snake, I had some influence over them. I couldn't talk to them, like a son of Mercury might be able to, but I had Mercury's blood coursing through my veins, so the snake would never dream of attacking me. Not me, but maybe someone else. Someone like Marisol.

No, I shouldn't. Marisol couldn't control her feelings any more than I could. Oh, but she didn't have to be such a bitch about it! She could have turned me down nicely. Or, even better, she could have given me a chance. She probably thought that she was better than me, and that's why she didn't go out with me. She probably thought that she was better than everyone, what with the way she never talked to anyone, like she was above them. She deserved to have a snake set on her, that might knock her down a few notches. Yeah, that would be good for her. I was doing her a favor.

I looked around to make sure that no one was looking, and I picked up the rattlesnake. It curled up lovingly on my arm, then slithered into my shirt, wrapping around my torso. It was only about two inches in diameter, so I didn't look very suspicious. I walked down to the barracks, trying desperately to exude an air of purpose so that if anyone saw me out of my place, they wouldn't be perturbed.

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In the barracks of the Second Cohort, I searched around for some clue that would point out Marisol's bed to me. There, resting on the pillow of one of the lower bunks was her magical iPod, earbuds strewn around it. Whoever was doing bunk inspection needed to be more careful. I bet Marisol had them in her pocket, and they were letting her off easy. Disgusting.

I put my hands up into my shirt, and gently pried the snake off of me. I set it under the blanket, and told it to stay there. There was the glint of comprehension in its eyes, and I left, returning to the Field of Mars. Maybe she'd know it was me. Maybe I didn't care.

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**A/N:**

**Oooh scene change! How vintage. Anyways, sorry I didn't update, I had other stuff and I couldn't get to a computer so... yeah. Maybe if more people reviewed I would stick to the schedule :P Also, I know this should probably be longer since I didn't update, but I don't feel like fluffing it up, and not much was happening, but it's still an isolated scene. Who's POV do you guys like best? Should I do a chapter from Marisol's POV? That would kind of go against the theme, but whatever. I'm open to suggestion. Leave a review. Or don't. Like I said, it's your life. You choose how to live it. Don't take orders from anybody. Be a free spirit. Or don't. Maybe you don't want to be a free spirit. Maybe you _want _to do what people tell you. But, by not being a free spirit after I told you to be a free spirit, then you became a free spirit, did you not? So I win no matter what. Ha.**

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**Disclaimer:**

**How about no**


	7. Part VII: Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano

**The Marisol Chronicles: ****Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano**

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**Posted August 19th**

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**The Hatezone: Part VII**

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I was fed up with Marisol's gloominess. She glared straight ahead as the Third Cohort walked back to the barracks that evening. We'd won the war games, and the kids around me were all happy, joking around with each other. All in high spirits. All except Marisol. She was looking like she wanted to burn a hole through the Via Principalis.

"Marisol."

"What?" She snapped. Jeez.

"C'mon. We won! Cheer up." I said, nudging her. She stepped away from me.

"Is that an order?" She asked coldly. A wave of guilt rushed though me, in spite of the fact that I had just been doing my job. If she hadn't broken the rules, I wouldn't have been put in that position. And it wasn't even that bad! All she had to do was stand in front of a door for a few hours.

"Oh, quit being so dramatic." I said irritably. "It's just sentry duty."

"I'm not mad that it's sentry duty." She replied shortly. So she was upset that I had punished her, not what the punishment was. It was kind of unfair. A bad balance of power. But it's not my fault that I was in a position of authority and she wasn't.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" I asked, opening the door to the barracks.

"I want you to have told David or something." She replied shortly, walking into the room after me. "Or, even better, you could have just _not done anything_." She went to her bunk and rummaged through her things, picked out some clothes. She didn't want to have to wait to shower. All the hot water would be gone. Thinking along the same lines as she, I drew pajamas out from the trunk under my bed.

"You know that's not an option." I said. This was exactly why I barely had any friends. "I don't do special treatment." I made my way into the girl's bathroom, her following. I picked the closest shower stall, shut the curtain and stripped, turned on the water. Other girls soon filed in, each picking their own shower.

Marisol was being kind of ridiculous. First she got upset at that Gabriel boy for liking her. She'd turned him down, which she should have, if she didn't like him back, but I suspected that she hadn't done it very nicely. It would make sense, what with the fact that she'd turned down a few boys before, and they became... well, as upset with her as she'd probably been with Gabriel. She wanted to be firm with him. She was frustrated, tired of being abused by bitter boys, and was losing faith in all men everywhere. But she didn't need to take that out on Gabriel, or, more importantly, me. I was her friend! And yes, I had the authority to make her clean out the unicorn stables if she got on my bad side, but I would never do that. It was against my morals to misuse my power like that. I would _not_ let my personal feelings intermix with my work. She knew that. And yes, it sucked that she had to do sentry duty, but she brought it on herself. She could grow up and fucking deal with it.

I turned off the shower faucet, dried off, and pulled on my pajamas, fuming inside, but making sure that I appeared neutral. Why did _I_ always have to be the one to take the high road? I was always the one who had to school my expression, had to be strong for others. Well, sometimes I wanted to be an immature fifteen year old! Sometimes I wanted to scream into my pillow, rage and shout, make stupid sarcastic comments about everything! But no, I decided that I wanted to be a leader, wanted to make a difference, and so now I had to deal with the consequences.

I walked towards my bed and sat on the corner, hoping that no one would try to talk to me or ask me something. I brushed my palm over the soft covers. One of the perks of being a Centurion was that you got to sleep on a better bed than everyone else. Mine wasn't a bunk, and the mattress was twin sized, not the skinny, thin thing the others received. It was the closest to the far wall, right next to the linens closet. Which was shuddering and banging.

I stood up to investigate, and swung the door open. It revealed a boy, who I recognized as Nick, son of Venus, and a girl, Ellie, daughter of Sol. They were making out passionately. Oh, and both of their pants were off.

"What in the name of Jupiter are you two doing?" I demanded. "Put your pants on!" They scrambled to comply, both of their faces practically glowing red. I would have laughed if I wasn't already angry.

"You two are in _so_ much trouble." Said a voice from beside my elbow. It was Marisol. She looked like she was about to burst into giggles. I glared at her. What, so now she wanted to be friends again?

"Reyna, can I talk to you?" She asked. Oh, this better be good.

"You two, go tell David what you did. I'll let _him_ deal with you." I said to Nick and Ellie, jerking my thumb in David's general direction. They looked at me, then they looked at each other, obviously thoroughly scared.

"You heard me!" I shouted. They scurried away.

I turned towards Marisol, crossing my arms. "What? You want to be friends now?" I could hear the ice in my own words. Apparently she could too, because an expression of hurt flashed across her features.

"Reyna, I'm sorry. I'm being a little kid. It's not your fault I snuck out." She said. That caught me off guard. But, of course she would want to apologize, she didn't want me to be mad at her! Well, she was mean to me. I wasn't going to forgive her that easily.

"You're right." I said, not letting up.

She nodded, looking down at the ground. "All I've been doing is thinking about myself, and all you've been doing is thinking about me." Well, that wasn't _all_ that I was doing. "You've been trying to take care of my feelings, and I've been stomping on yours. I like... I've only been thinking about myself." She said again. "I'm a hot mess." She smiled. I didn't return it.

"You are a hot mess. I don't know why I'm friends with you." I turned away from her, arms still crossed. She was being nice now, and I could tell that she was making an effort, and she was 100% right. She was a hot mess. All moody like this. There should be a saying, like "if you don't like Marisol's mood, wait five minutes."

"You're friends with me because I'm adorable." She wrapped her arm around my bicep. I tried to shrug her off but she just pulled my arm closer, snuggling it. "I'm just here for the aesthetics."

I sighed dramatically. "What am _I_ here for, then?"

"You're the badass warrior chick who kicks butt." She said. "And the super nice friend who takes my shit even though she totally doesn't need to and should just never talk to me again but I'm too adorable."

I finally couldn't help it, I smiled. "Can you believe that I just caught Nick and Ellie fucking each other?"

She chuckled. "Nick was very well-endowed."

I laughed, and we dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Did you see their _faces_?" I asked.

She just snickered harder, "Ellie looked like a tomato!"

It was several moments before we calmed down. "It's lights out soon." Marisol remarked, breathing hard. I nodded, still smiling. She went to her bunk, and I crawled into bed. I was just settled under the covers when I heard a shriek. It was Marisol.

"Sna-sna-snake!" She yelled, clutching her hand to her chest. I jumped into action, scrambling off the bed. There was a rattling, and I saw a brown rattlesnake slither away from the scene.

"Somebody get that snake!" I shouted. One of the Mercury kids or Mars kids would get it, probably. Meanwhile, I tried to calm Marisol down. She was hyperventilating, her eyes as big as saucers. People were crowding her, hovering, trying to see if she was alright. Well, she wouldn't be if they didn't give her some room.

"Back up!" I commanded. "Get back to your bunks." I grabbed Marisol's arms. She was shaking like a leaf.

"Marisol. Were you bitten?" I asked, as calmly as I could. She said nothing, just held out her hand. There were two holes in the fleshy part of her palm. Styx. And her heart was probably beating very very fast, pumping the venom through her system all too quickly. She needed treatment, and now.

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**A/N:**

**Cliffhanger! Actually, I don't think I'm going to write the part where she goes to the infirmary. I don't know. It's only going to be like 300 words if I do, so probably not. At this point, I'm not even going to ask for reviews. It's not going to happen. I should just quit the entire fanfic because obviously no one likes it, lol. **

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**Disclaimer:**

**I still don't own the Percy Jackson universe. That would be Rick Riordan and Disney Hyperion. I don't make money off this fanfic either. The only characters I own are my OC's, who I'm not going to list because at this point there are just too many. **


	8. Part VIII: David Sanchez

**The Marisol Chronicles: David Sanchez**

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**Posted August 21st**

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**The Hatezone: Part VIII**

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I was sitting next to Reyna, eating a hamburger for lunch. She was telling me more about her plans for becoming a Praetor.

"Who's going to supersede us, David? I mean, you're leaving for New Rome, I'm running for Praetor."

"Well, we're not going to have to worry about it. It'll be up to the senate. They're going to choose." I said.

"We're going to have to recommend someone, aren't we? Who will you be recommending?" She asked, staring at me expectantly. Honestly, Reyna was a great leader, but she was much too eager for my taste.

"I don't know, Reyna. Who will ___you _be recommending?" I asked, turning the tables on her. Of course, she had her answer ready.

"I'm thinking Hank." She said shortly. "He shows initiative, leadership skills. What about you?"

I was saved from answering when a shout echoed through the mess hall.

"Gabriel, you are by far the___biggest culus _I have ever had the misfortune to meet!" It was Marisol. The daughter of Apollo. She was nice, pretty, kind of weird. Introverted. I knew she was a daughter of Apollo, and Reyna's friend. It was bizarre, seeing her so angry. And loud. Usually the only thing I ever heard her say was "present" at roll call. And she said it quietly, at that.

"Yeah, well you're a slut!" A boy's voice, this time. I assumed it was Gabriel.

"I didn't give you the _time of day_, and now you're calling me a slut? You seem to be changing your story, Gabriel."

"I just wanted to like you! Why is that so hard for you? Why can't you just give me a _chance_?" He demanded.

"Oh, yeah, like I'm going to give a chance to the boy who put a___rattlesnake_in my ___bed__. _That's the kind of boy I want to go out with. Now, it's me going on a date with you, and I didn't do that, so you put a snake in my bunk. What's next? I don't want to have sex with you, so you plant a Hydra in the barracks? And what if the relationship lasts, and you propose to me? What if I don't want to be engaged? Will you send a dragon after me? I could have _died_, Gabriel." She said. He stared at her dumbly as she turned on her heel and stalked away from him.

So, this Gabriel liked Marisol, and she didn't like him back, so he put a snake in her bunk. What a charmer. Well, in all honesty, I was glad that she was confronting him about it. More power to her.

"She's disgracing the cohort." Reyna said under her breath.

"I think she's pwning him." I remarked, earning me a glare.

"You're just a coward! You're afraid to get close to people!" Gabriel shouted after her. He could be right. It would make sense. She never talked to anyone. I thought that was because she was just weird, not because she was afraid of people. But I didn't know her well enough to be the judge of that. I didn't think anyone did, except maybe Reyna.

Marisol turned on her heel, glaring acidly at him. Slowly, but surely, she walked towards him. Now ___he_was looking like the coward. She stopped, a foot from him, and snatched a plate of nachos that was flying through the air. Then, she raised the plate, and dumped the cheesy nachos on his head. She took the now empty plate, and pushed it into his chest.

I was standing up to intervene, when she said. "If you ___ever_," she paused, "come near me again, I will ___end__ you_." She walked briskly out of the mess hall. Reyna followed her, angry. Shit was about to go down. Maybe I should have been the one to follow Marisol. I'd heard that Reyna had yelled at her at breakfast yesterday. Their friendship might not survive another episode of lecturing. Although, if Reyna was going to be the Praetor, their friendship wouldn't have lasted that long anyways.

Prince Charming stood there, looking like he was about to cry. He'd brushed off the melting cheese quickly, as it was probably hot and burning his skin. One of his Centurions, a buff, blond guy named Clive, said from his seat: "Tell me, Gabriel, when did you find the time to plant a rattlesnake in that girl's bed?"

That boy was in a lot of trouble.

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**A/N:**

**Yeah, I decided not to write the infirmary part. Basically, all you need to know is that she was freaking out and she kind of came close to death but not really. She was okay by lunch the next day. Also, yeah, I know it's technically two days since I updated last but it's like midnight so not really. So, anyways, what do you think so far? Is there anything I'm doing wrong? Do you have any ideas for scenes that I should write?**

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**Disclaimer:**

**You know what, I'm done. Nope. Not going to do it. No more. Unless I add in a song or something else that needs crediting, I'm done. This is con-notations, signing off.**


	9. Part IX: Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano

**The Marisol Chronicles: Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano**

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**Posted August 22nd**

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**The Hatezone: Part IX**

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What the fuck? That boy planted a snake on Marisol. Marisol Winters. The sweet quirky girl who never talked to anyone ever? What on Earth made him think that that would ever be okay? I marched after her, fuming. Gods, if I wasn't a respectable Centurion, I would have gutted that boy like a fish.

David was right. She had every right to be angry. I just wished that she hadn't been angry in front of the entire legion. But there was no helping it now. My best bet was to put this all behind us, help her get over it, and keep her as far away from that Gabriel boy as possible.

"Marisol!" I called after her. She was running away from the mess hall, towards the Decumanian gate. My legs were much longer than hers, so I caught up with her soon enough. "Marisol." She stopped just outside of the gate. I put a hand on her back, steered her to the wall next to the entrance. She slid down, sat on the grass, panting slightly. "Don't yell at me." She said.

"I'm not going to yell at you." I replied shortly. "That boy planted the rattlesnake on you?"

She didn't say anything, which was confirmation enough for me.

"So, is he evil? Or crazy? Or both?"

She half smiled. "No, I think he's just _misunderstood_." She said sarcastically. Good. If she was joking, then she wasn't too upset. "Oh, gods, Reyna. I don't think I'm going to be able to do this anymore. The boys. At this point, I don't think I'm going to survive."

I nodded. "It doesn't help that they're demigods. They're dangerous." Regular mortal boys wouldn't have been able to control a rattlesnake. The most they would have been able to do was throw eggs at her house or something. We were the children of the gods. Danger was in our blood, literally. "But so are you."

"You want me to get revenge?" She asked. No! I was supposed to be discouraging that sort of thing! I was a Centurion!

"You know I'm not like that." She said, saving me. "I wish you weren't a Centurion. Then you'd get revenge for me, wouldn't you? I saw how mad you were," she looked at me. I didn't think that Marisol saw how _anyone _was. I mean, she saw how they were, but she didn't read into emotions a whole lot. Or so I thought.

"You did?"

She nodded.

"Hm." I took a breath. If she saw my anger, who else did? What else could she see?

"Does it bother you? I mean, you weren't exactly _hiding _it." She shrugged. She was right though. In the heat of the moment, I didn't hide it. I'd have to work on that.

"Not really." I shrugged, aware that I was mimicking her movements. "It's Saturday. We don't have to train. Let's go to New Rome."

"Yeah. I didn't finish my lunch, plus I don't want to go back in there. I think I have some Denarii in my bag." She stood up, brushed her skirt off. She probably wouldn't get so many fawning boys if she dressed down a bit more. But it was her body, she could wear whatever clothes she wanted. It wasn't her fault that some boys got turned on by cute clothes. That was their problem, not hers.

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That afternoon, we hung out together, drinking hot chocolate, walking through all the different parks and gardens. We sat cross-legged on the edge of a fountain in the Garden of Bacchus, trying to throw popcorn into each other's mouths. While trying to go long, Marisol knocked the bag of popcorn into the fountain. She scooped it back up with a "whoops." The soggy popcorn lay between us.

"It's alright. The bag was almost finished anyways." I say, shrugging.

She sighed. "Yeah." Then, a few seconds later, "Reyna?"

"Mhm?" She wanted to talk about something important. This was going to be exhausting.

"Are you really going to go out for praetor?" She asked, tapping the fingers of one hand on the stone fountain. Probably playing some piano song. Either a sign of absence, or of nervousness. Was she going to confront me about something? Did she think I wasn't cut out for Praetorship, and wanted to be a good friend and save me the pain of disgracing myself? She'd said it was a good idea a few days ago. Had she thought about it, and changed her opinion?

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, it's a lot of responsibility, isn't it?" Oh, gods. She didn't think I would be able to handle all the work, didn't she? I checked myself, my features. Put on a mask of indifference.

I half-laugh, smirking. "Well, _yes_. I'll be leading the camp. Managing everything." Allowed the smirk to fade a little bit. Marisol didn't pick up on much anyways.

"You won't have time to do things like this anymore?"

"What? I... of course I will." That was what she was worried about, that I wouldn't be her friend anymore? But, she had a point. I was going to be very busy.

"Are you sure? I mean, you'll be working, like, _all the time_." She said. Now I was starting to have doubts. Would I have time for regular, teenage things? Although, I supposed I never really had time for regular teenage things. But wasn't this a teenage thing now? Oh, gods, I felt like my brain was spinning inside my skull.

"Don't get me wrong, I mean, you should still do it. But..." She said, looking into my face. Her eyes were so dark, just like mine. Her tiny upturned nose crinkled, her brown eyebrows knit together. I wondered if she was a natural blonde. "Just..." She took a breath. She was obviously struggling with whatever she had to say. "Just don't forget about me. You're my only friend." She said flatly, turning so that her legs hung over the side of the fountain. The sun was setting behind her head. I was her only friend. I knew that, of course, but I didn't think I _mattered_ to her. I didn't think anyone mattered to her. I was touched.

"Marisol. I'll still be your friend." I assured her.

"Good." She put her hands in her lap. Marisol was always a very detached person. She just didn't talk to people. I didn't know why she did it. Maybe I should ask her. Although, I didn't want to come across as blunt. Bluntness tends to make people very defensive. But Marisol didn't see connotations, little hints. Maybe she needed to be asked bluntly.

I was about to open my mouth to do exactly that, when she said: "People don't like me." Her hands were knotted in her lap.

"What? Of course they do!" But now that I thought about it, did they? I didn't really see her talk to other people, so I couldn't gauge their reactions. People sometimes told me she was weird, that she was rude, that she ignored them. They also told me she was sweet. I supposed it just depended on the person.

"C'mon Reyna." She was grimacing. "I just got attacked by a rattlesnake that was planted in my bed. People don't like me."

"Well, that was just Gabriel."

"He liked me before, though. And I ruined it."

"_He_ ruined it. You didn't do anything but be yourself. You acted sincerely." I wished I could act sincerely all the time.

"Exactly! My sincerity ruined it. _I _ruined it." She pumped her fist, punching the stone fountain next to her thigh. She didn't even wince.

"Marisol, one of the best things about you is that you don't lie to people. Don't try to change that about yourself. People are just upset with themselves because you don't hide how you feel about them." It was probably the only reason I started hanging out with her in the first place. I could trust her to be straight with me.

She let out a frustrated breath. "Let's not talk about this right now."

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?" I hope she didn't want me to talk about another important thing.

"Let's just not talk." Even better. She turned so she was laying with her back on the fountain, knees propped up so they pointed towards the sky. I could handle that. I scooted over and lay down on the cold, slightly damp cement. Gazing at the colors of the sunset, I finally knew why Apollo was considered the god of art.

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**A/N:**

**And that concludes The Hatezone! The malicious Gabriel is out of our lives forever! Well, not forever, but for now. Did I write that ending well? I've never really written an ending before, I always start things and then never finish them, so if any of you have some pointers, tell me in the reviews.**


	10. Part I: Dakota

**The Marisol Chronicles: Dakota**

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**Posted August 24th**

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**Turning Tables: Part I**

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"Your name's Marisol, right?" I asked her. We'd spent the past ten minutes awkwardly staring out at the passing traffic going through the Caldecott tunnel. It was a dry, dusty night. My flask of cherry Kool-Aid rested in my right palm.

"Mhm." She replied. She didn't talk much, did she?

"My name's Dakota." I reached out my hand to shake. After a moment of hesitation, she took it. "I saw that fight you had with that guy at lunch." I said, trying to make conversation. I took a swig of Kool-Aid and shuddered with pleasure as the sugar made its way down my throat. It wasn't real wine, but it still tasted good.

She said nothing.

"Well, you don't have to give me a _speech_." I said sarcastically. Was this how she was like with everyone?

"You know, I talked to Gabriel, too. That guy at lunch. You saw how good that turned out." She said, still staring out at the stars.

I shook my head to clear it out a bit. The sugar sometimes made me feel a bit foggy. I remembered that the boy was asking her out on a date, and she told him no, and he put a hydra in her room or something like that? I didn't really remember. "Just because he was a..." I searched for the right word, "bad person, doesn't mean that everyone else is."

She sighed. "I can't take that chance."

I rolled my eyes, although she probably didn't see me in the dark. "Alright, whatever. I'm just trying to make conversation. This is boring."

"Hm." She said. "Just making conversation."

"Yeah," I confirmed, because I really didn't know what else to say.

"If you're bored, we can play a game. Just promise you won't get a crush on me or something."

What? Why would I get a crush on her? She was a total weirdo, and, not to mention, like three years younger than me. But I didn't say that, of course. That would be mean. "A game?"

"Yeah. It's where one person comes up with two different things, and the other person has to figure out a way to connect them."

"Connect them? Like how?"

"Like, if you said fish and spaghetti, I would say that they can both be eaten."

"Oh. Okay, I'll go first. Um..." I searched around me for inspiration. There was a chain link fence separating the highway from the neighborhood. "Fence." A sword was in my other hand, the one that wasn't holding the flask. "And sword."

"Come on." She said. "That's too easy."

"What? How is that easy?" I asked indignantly.

"You fence with a sword."

"Oh. I mean a fence, like, the kind that separates stuff." I said. "Like, a _thing_. Not an action."

"Oh. Okay. They're both made of metal. My turn," she said shortly. I wished she hadn't gotten through that one so quickly. "Hot dogs and twelve o'clock."

How was I supposed to connect those two things? Hot dogs and twelve o'clock. Well, twelve o'clock on one of those not digital clocks had both hands forming a straight line. Hot dogs were in a straight line.

"Okay, you know those clocks that aren't digital?"

"Analog clocks?"

"Yeah!" _That _was the word. "Well, at twelve o'clock, the little hand lines up with the big hand and forms a straight line. Hot dogs are in straight lines." I said, ignoring her slight giggle. "Okay. My turn."

I tried to think of an abstract thing. "Life." That was abstract, right? Then, something that she couldn't possibly connect to life. "And death!" Those were complete opposites.

"Life is the opposite of death."

"That doesn't count!"

"What, things can't be linked by their... antonymity?" She said. Antonymity, like how they were antonyms.

"You made that word up." I accused her, smiling.

"I did not!" She retorted indignantly.

"Aaaaaaah!" Suddenly, a figure dropped down in front of us, groaning. Before they could so much as groan in pain, Marisol and I both had our weapons at the ready.

"Wait! Don't shoot!" It was a boy's voice. I glanced in confusion at my sword. You didn't shoot with a sword. But, of course, Marisol was the daughter of Apollo. She had a bow.

"You're a demigod?" I barked.

"Yes! There's a vicious bird lady after me!" He said, clutching at his side with one hand, and pointing the other at the hill above us. A harpy stood at the crest, her wings shining in the bright moonlight. Marisol stepped over the boy and turned, shooting her. The harpy fell sideways down the hill, screeching.

"Was there anything else after you?" She demanded.

The boy didn't answer for a moment.

"C'mon!" She said impatiently.

"Marisol, chill." I told her. She was being so harsh. He'd just hurt himself. "Just give him a minute."

"No. Nothing else. Is following me." He choked out. "It hurts to breathe."

Marisol threw her bow to the side and knelt next to him.

"Which side?"

"Both."

Marisol cursed. She pulled him up so he was standing, and he screamed, then cut off quickly. I winced at the sound of his pain. _Quit being such a pussy_. I admonished myself. I went to his other side and held him up, slinging his arm over my shoulder. Marisol flipped her bow up with her foot and caught it in her free hand, and we half-led, half-carried the boy through the Camp entrance.

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**A/N:**

**Okay so school is starting back up for me, so I'm not going to be updating every day anymore. I mean, I didn't really update every day anyways, but now it's official, I'm not updating every day. I'll probably update once every two or three days. You can expect two updates a week. Okay, that's all I have to say. Have a nice day. Or don't. Choose your own destiny.**


	11. Part II: Oliver Smith

**The Marisol Chronicles: Oliver Smith**

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**Posted September 4th**

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**Turning Tables: Part I**

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I woke up in a soft cot, a girl standing over me. She had dark brown, almost black eyes, glittery blonde hair, and an expression of boredom and concern on her face. She was pressing a damp cloth onto my forehead, and I immediately tensed up.

She said nothing in recognition of my waking up.

"What... where am I?" I asked groggily, trying to sit up. There was a water basin, a cabinet, and two rows of ten cots, all empty, in the room. She gently pushed my shoulder back onto the cot.

"You're at Camp Jupiter." She said, taking the cloth over to the basin. Good, so I'd made it. Lupa had been annoyingly vague in her directions to the place. "Go south," she'd said. What the hell was up with that? "Go south?" What kind of directions were those?

"What happened to me?" I demanded, more awake now. "And, I mean, where specifically am I?"

"The infirmary. You broke two ribs on your right side, one of them punctured your lung, and you fractured one rib on the other side. You also had some nasty cuts."

My hand automatically went to my ribcage. Yeah, I remembered that. I'd taken quite a beating on my way here. None of my ribs _felt _broken, just really sore. That shouldn't have... I should have been more hurt.

"How long have I been out? What did you do to me?" Had she done surgery on me?

"You've been out for half the night and all of the morning. It's about one in the afternoon right now." I glanced at the window, where I saw the sun high in the sky. "As for what I did to you, I healed you." She shrugged, putting the damp cloth on my forehead again. Her eyes widened for a moment, and she stopped moving suddenly. Immediately, I thought she must have seen another injury on me, one that she hadn't noticed before. But all she said was: "Don't get a crush on me."

"Get a _crush_ on you? What are you talking about?" Self-absorbed, much?

She shook her head, sighing. "Never mind. Basically, I gave you nectar and ground unicorn horn and you healed pretty quickly. But it took a lot, so you have a fever now." She gestured towards the cloth.

"Wait, go back to the crush." I said, sitting up and brushing her off. My chest protested, but I didn't want to lay down anymore. It was awkward. "Why would I get a crush on _you_?" I didn't care if I sounded mean.

To my surprise, she smiled wryly. "To be honest, I don't know."

"But you told me not to. Why did you do that? Why would you assume something like that? Are you just really self-absorbed, or...?"

"Self-absorbed..." She paused and got a look on her face, like she was about to space out. Then she snapped back to reality. "Not really. I mean, I keep to myself, but... huh. I guess maybe I am self-absorbed." _Now_ she looked hurt. It was funny, she seemed unaffected when I was half-shouting at her, but it wasn't until _she_ said she was self-absorbed that she looked sad. And that said a lot about her. I mean, I looked pretty intimidating. I did it on purpose. My hair was black and wild, and I had two piercings on my eyebrow and three in each of my ears. I'd had to take them out, though. I didn't want any monsters grabbing them and ripping them out. Maybe _that_ was why she wasn't so intimidated, I didn't have my peircings in. But usually my expression was enough, even without them. She could have just been uneasily intimidated. No, it was probably because of the piercings.

"But it's not because of you. I mean, I don't think you like me. It's just..." She looked over to my bag. "That's what usually happens when someone saves someone else. In movies and stuff."

"You... saved me?" I asked, confused.

"Well, kind of. I shot the harpy, if that's what you're asking. But I didn't let you get pneumonia or something like that."

"Oh." I was uncomfortable accepting help from her, I admit it. "You didn't have to do that."

"Well, yeah, actually. It's my job. Since I'm a daughter of Apollo, I'm one of the best healers. Not counting my brothers and sisters." She said.

"Still."

"Whatever, it's fine. You're easy to talk to." She replied, like that was a justifiable payment.

"Me? Easy to talk to?" I was _not_ easy to talk to. I tried really hard to make sure that I wasn't.

"Mhm. So I take it you're feeling better? We've got to go to the Principia to see one of the Praetors. I hope it's Jason," she added, more to herself than to me.

I moved to get out of bed, wincing. I was sore, but I could manage.

"You don't have to go now." She saw my wincing.

"It's fine." I replied shortly. "I'm _fine_." I insisted when she opened her mouth to argue. Romans didn't wince, they didn't show weakness. This wasn't some little pissbaby summer camp.

"Alright. Come on, then." She led me out of the infirmary, short legs pumping, and across a small road lined with various shops, all open for business. Kids in an assortment of purple t-shirts and battle armor milled about, chatting and shopping. A few of them stared at me, but I kept my eyes straight ahead, not looking at anyone.

She led me into a big, two-story marble building like a bank. I assumed this was the Principia. The vaulted ceiling had a glittering mosaic of two guys, Romulus and Remus, Lupa'd told me, standing under Lupa herself. The polished marble floors reflected the velvet hanging on the walls, and the various banners and military symbols on the back wall. There was a staircase with bars like a jail cell over the entrance in the back corner. Probably a holding cell or something like that.

In the center of the room, a long wooden table, empty except for a stack of papers and a bowl of jellybeans, sat a man with blond hair. He looked up when we entered.

"Marisol." He stood. So her name was Marisol. It sounded like an old lady name. It sounded like the name of some old fashioned bathroom cleaner. "You should have knocked."

I glanced at her. Her jaw was clenched, and her expression was that of extreme dislike. "Sorry, Will. I didn't mean to impose on your _privacy_."

"Is this him?" Will asked, ignoring the obvious shade she was throwing. Walking towards us, I saw that he was seriously buff, built like a football player. Maybe in his early twenties, late teens."What's your name?"

"Uh, Oliver."

"Okay _uh Oliver_, go have a seat."

I scowled. I didn't like this guy. I looked at Marisol again. She met my eyes, telling me with a look to go do it. I did. It was funny, I'd known her for all of five minutes, and we were already sharing meaningful looks. As I walked away, I heard her and Will have a short little talk:

"Now, Marisol, you're not leading that boy on, are you?" He sounded like a concerned older brother.

"I don't lead people on." She said petulantly.

"Yeah, okay, sure..." Will replied sarcastically.

"I don't!" She protested.

"Watch yourself," he said in a warning tone.

From where I sat, I could hear her take a deep breath. "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"Yes, actually. Go get whatshisname... Dakota."

She turned on her heel without another word and left, the great marble door shutting with a solid "thunk." I felt strangely alone without her. She was the only one I knew at this place, though.

Then Will was standing across the table from me. "She's so rude. So, tell me, Oliver, how did you come across Camp Jupiter?"

"Uh, well, I guess my mom just sort of told me about my dad, y'know, he's my godly parent, like last month, maybe? I don't know. But she told me about him, and how I had to go to Lupa, so I kind of went, and then Lupa sent me... and here I am."

He gave a short little laugh. "What an eloquent speech."

I stared blankly at him. Judging by the way Marisol had followed his orders, and he'd said "watch yourself," to her, I assumed he was in a position of authority. I usually didn't like to respect authority, but when authority looked like it could snap me like a toothpick, well...

"And so bright. C'mon, kid, I need _details_. How did you survive for so long without being eaten by monsters? You're how old?"

"Fourteen. Fifteen next month."

"Figures." Alright, muscles or no, I was ready to punch this guy. I settled for glaring. "Where were you from?"

"Minnesota."

"You get any monsters in Minnesota?"

"I've gotten monsters everywhere I go."

"Fair point. Have you met anyone strange lately? I mean, I'm sure you're friends with tons of strange people," he gave me the ol' up and down eyes, "but anyone _particularly_ strange?"

"Um, no." My voice was curt.

What kind of person is your mom?"

"Why? Do you want to date her?"

He gave another one of those short, humorless little laughs. "Look, kid, if I were you—"

The door creaked open. "Uh, Will? You sent for me?" It was a tall guy, built like Will, but with black hair instead of blond.

Will sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you people? _Knock first_."

"Oh, uh, sorry."

"Whatever, Dakota. I want you to take Oliver here to my dear young cousin. He needs an augury." An augury? What was an augury? And who was Will's cousin? If he was related to Will, that couldn't be good.

"Octavian?" Dakota asked. He sounded... tipsy. I wondered if they let people drink alcohol at Camp Jupiter. "You know, Will, we're _all_ cousins here, technically."

"Ah. But not on both sides. Our mothers are sisters."

Dakota nodded. "Right." They both stared at me expectantly, and I stood up to leave. Time to get an augury.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Okay! Another chapter, finally! Yeah, I _seriously _underestimated how much homework my teachers were going to assign. Once I kind of figure out how to manage my time better, I'll update a bit more often, but until then I won't be able to update as often. I'm thinking about doing a chapter from Marisol's POV, thoughts? Thoughts on the story so far? Thoughts about the meaning of life? Leave a review. You know what I'm going to say next, don't you? "Or don't. It's your life, man." Wow, we know each other so well.**


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